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Sea and Sky
"So, if we're in Orcas...should we call Noddies walruses?"
"No."
"Seals?"
"Well, maybe not on the other side of the Atlantic...but..."
"Sea lions?"
Wing Commander Begidora drowned out the chatter of his subordinates. English was the only common language the three Orca pilots shared, but Gutzelnig and Stoltenberg were abusing their right to communicate with it. Bad enough that they were flying over his home country of Italy (or what used to be Italy), but they were supposed to be focussed on using said Orcas to hunt the Brotherhood, not compare it to their real-world namesake.
"Well, if we're Orcas...and we're after Noddies...then I guess we've got a porpoise then."
That did it. When your second language was composed of nothing but puns, you had to put a stop to it.
"Blue Two, Blue Three, silenzio," Begidora interrupted. "Eyes on the ground or on the sky. Ion storms, religious zealots...no chances."
"Ah, si," Stoltenberg said. "No chance, yes, course."
"Bene."
The silence was welcome for Blue Squadron's leader...if "squadron" could really be applied to the Orca craft, having somehow come out of what was already being called the Second Tiberium War unscathed. As much devastation tiberium had wrought upon Earth, the Brotherhood of Nod had matched it with the loss of human lives, most of them GDI. Europe had been a central part of the conflict, and whether GDI's people came from untouched Norway, tiberium-ravaged Germany or countries rendered non-existent like Italia, the call had been answered. And Nod had stuck the proverbial knife in them as soon as the door had been opened.
"Verfluct..." Gutzelnig breathed... "This Italia? Why Nod be here?"
"Got them on the run," Stoltenberg murmured. "Now that ukete barn prophet of theirs is dead, wastelands like this are the only lands left for the scumbags. Let them rot for all I care."
"Chiudere," the squadron's commander said. "Nod was once thought defeated, but they came back. Kane was once thought dead as well. Let down our guard, they come back. We stop that from happening."
And stop them from residing in my home...the pilot reflected bitterly. If it could still be called that.
At least he wasn't the only one pushing for continued hounding of the dogs of war GDI's enemies were. Mitchell, McNeil, even the retired "Havoc" Parker...cutting off the head of the snake was all well and good in their eyes, but the body was still dangerous. Only once the body had been burnt could the infection gripping the world be burnt away in turn.
But for how long though? How long must we hound them before we turn the fight to tiberium as well?
He didn't have an answer. Nor did the remains of the Mediterranean to his left. A wasteland as dead and deserted as the province of Veneto.
"Don't think there'll be any seals today..."
"Is that a metaphor?"
"Con calma..." Begidora interrupted. "Seals, orcas, they're too far north anyway. Even if the Med was still the Med, you wouldn't find them. Only orcas here are ones in the sky."
And wasn't that the truth, the wing commander reflected. Orcas, Wolverines, Mammoths...humans were perfectly capable of naming their weapons of war after various animals, but what about actually saving them? He hadn't given it that much thought, but while he was all for continuing the offensive against Nod, flying over the country where tiberium first appeared on Earth...it was just horrific.
How many lives had tiberium taken? Not just human...Nod had that covered...but sea and land life? Where were the orcas their fighters were named after, if they even still existed? What about seals, and sea lions, and the millions, if not billions of aquatic species that had succumbed to tiberium poisoning? Ingesting the green crystal as they swam Earth's oceans...their lungs torn apart from the inside...
He didn't know. He never would. No-one would. Animals nowadays would only be metal imitations, and poor ones at that.
Still, as Begidora signalled for the fighters to swing up towards to what used to be Slovakia, he hoped that he could still save as many lives as possible.
If orcas still existed...maybe the craft of their namesake could protect them as much as the race of their pilots. They deserved that much.
All life on Earth did.